Page 11 of Ride or Die

Swallowing around the lump of my own self-doubt wedged in the back of my throat, I offer him a wink. “I’ve got a good feeling about this place.”

“Okay, Mom.” Tom’s smile is tight, uncertain, and it’s like a kick to my gut. But I squeeze his shoulder and watch as he takes Billie’s hand and walks her off in the direction of the freezer aisles in the back of the massive store.

With a deep, fortifying breath, I tuck a wayward lock of my hair behind my ear, lifting my chin a little higher as I walk toward the front courtesy desk, where a balding man dressed ina white button-down and an official green and black striped Stop and Shop tie is talking on a phone.

Waiting patiently, I take a look around, anticipation swirling in my belly.

“Can I help you?

I startle from the gruff tone, turning to find the man looking at me, his gaze scrupulous as he trails me slowly, one of his thick eyebrows arching.

“Oh, hi. Yes,” I stammer, my smile faltering a touch at just how hard and unwelcoming his dark stare feels burning my skin. “I’m wondering if you might have any positions vacant?”

The man huffs a sigh, like he’s never been more inconvenienced in his life. Instead of saying anything, he simply rolls his eyes, grabs something from a tray on the counter, and slides it across to me.

application for employment.

My eyes light up, because surely this means they’re hiring.

Reaching into my purse, I pull out the pen I carry with me at all times, ignoring the way my hands tremble with desperation, looking around like someone might possibly swoop in and take whatever job they have left before I can fill out the form in time. But then, as I read the questionnaire, my stomach knots.

cell phone number.

residential address.

two references.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I tap the pen against the paper, considering myself a moment. I’m thirty-three years old and I can’t even fill out a simple application for a grocery store job. I left my cell phone back in West Virginia, not wanting any way for him to track me. And I can’t very well give the address of the Sleepy Nights Motel, especially since after tomorrow night we won’t even be there anymore. And references? I don’t know anybody.

“Everythin’ alright?”

I snap my head up, finding the man watching me, one eye narrowing dubiously as he looks from me to my blank application and back again.

“Um, I-I—” I glance down at the questions glaring back at me, the ones I can’t answer, and with an apologetic smile, I shake my head, sliding the paper back across the counter. “I’m sorry to waste your time.”

With another huff, the man snatches the application and turns his back on me, and it’s suddenly like I’m non-existent.

I release a shuddering breath, trying so hard to ignore the dread that sits like stone in the pit of my gut. Tucking my pen back into my purse with a trembling hand, I turn and walk away from the desk, tears stinging my eyes as I stare down at the floor.

This place was my last hope.

Forty-nine bucks and a few dimes sitting loose in the bottom of my purse. It’s all I have left. I don’t even have anything of value to sell. If I did, I would. In a heartbeat. But I’ve got nothing. The earrings in my ears are gold plated; they turn my skin green if I wear them too long.

How am I supposed to keep my kids fed with less than fifty bucks? After tomorrow night, we don’t even have a place to sleep.

Maybe I should’ve just stayed. Sucked it up and stuck it out. Maybe this was a mistake. A selfish one. I mean, sure, he hurt me, but he never laid a finger on the kids. At least we had a roof over our heads. Food on the table. But I can’t go back. Not now. Can I? Maybe if I explain to him why I did it, and why I won’t ever do it again, he might let me off. Give me another chance.

I close my eyes on a tremulous exhale, my mind flashing back to a time not so long ago, the moment that made me finally make the decision to leave, when he was mad at me for waving to one of his friends from the door. He smacked me so hard, it causedmy ears to ring and my vision to blur. Then he choked me until I blacked out. When I came to, I was bent over the kitchen table, my dress pulled up and my underwear around my knees. He was leaning over me, about ready to take me, when I looked up and saw Billie’s wide eyes staring at me from the doorway. She was so confused, so frightened, so helpless, tears streaming down her cheeks, her small, shaky voice cutting through my pleas for him to stop.“Mommy?”

“Mommy?”

With a gasp, my eyes fly open, and I’m brought back to right now, to the recycled air of the Stop and Shop swirling around me, to the low murmur of an old Sugar Ray song crackling through the speakers high up in the beams of the store. Tom and Billie are standing there looking up at me—Billie clutching her beloved Curly, Tom holding a box.

“Hey!” I force a big smile despite the tears I know are shining in my eyes, and I crouch down. “What’d you get?”

“It was… uh… cheaper to get a-a box of six,” Tom explains, showing me the box of Bomb Pops in his arms. “Only three bucks and seventy-nine cents.”

“Two each?” I smile at my children. “Sounds like a good deal to me.”